


Oh No He's Hot

by Serenade



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Chocolate Box Treat, First Meetings, M/M, Sexual Tension, The Seduction of Mairon, Volcanoes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 18:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13665066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenade/pseuds/Serenade
Summary: "For of the Maiar many were drawn to his splendour in the days of his greatness, and remained in that allegiance down into his darkness." When Sauron met Morgoth.





	Oh No He's Hot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Burning_Nightingale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Nightingale/gifts).



They had been warned to stay away from the north. They were told Melkor was wreaking havoc there. But Mairon, it turned out, was not very good at listening to warnings.

Mairon had his own assignment from Aulë. He was supposed to be taking inventory of mountains. Some of the continental plates had not laid quite flat, and attempts to push them down only made them bulge up elsewhere.

It was not terribly interesting work. Which was why Mairon followed his curiosity into forbidden territory. All he remembered of Melkor was a voice singing in the darkness of the void. Singing a new theme into the world: a little less perfect, a little more exciting. It made him feel things he didn't have a name for. Maybe the words didn't exist yet.

Mairon crouched behind the mountain range that walled off the north, peering between magnificent peaks dusted with snow. On the other side, rivers of fire ran through the smoking earth, pulsing from volcanic mounds. Deep chasms glowed with molten light. Even at this distance, the radiant heat flushed his face and beaded sweat upon his brow. He had never known something like this could exist, this landscape of wild fury and untamed beauty. Forever after, the smell of ash and sulfur made him think of home.

Darkness moved upon the land. Melkor sauntered forth.

He was armoured in black, perfectly molded to the firm musculature of his chest and thighs. His cloak billowed from his shoulders like a vast shadow, his mane of hair whipping in the wind. His eyes burned like flame, his scorching gaze seeming to strip bare everything that Mairon was thinking. Tremors shook the earth where he trod, but it was as nothing to the tumult inside Mairon. He was tall enough to measure mountains, but Melkor loomed over him, wreathed in smoke and fire.

Melkor came right up to the mountain, laying a hand on its pristine peak. "So, little Maia," he said, with an amused smile. "Is this yours?"

Mairon lifted his chin. "What if it is?"

Slowly and deliberately, Melkor swept a trail of fire along the mountainside. Snow hissed into steam. An endless torrent of power spilled from his hands. The heart of the mountain ignited, sending up an explosion of sparks. Melkor held his gaze, daring Mairon to protest. All Mairon could do was stare, shaken, breathless.

The volcano erupted in a fiery plume, hot lava spurting down its sides.

Melkor smiled in satisfaction, amid a rain of fire. That look made Mairon want to smite mountains too.


End file.
